The world is blind in its demanding.

The world is blind in its demanding.

With cruelty

Disguised by the softest kiss of wind.

Each whisper of contrition denied

In a faint brush of

Thoughtless changeability

It challenges the soul to a duel of wills

When the sweet temptation

Is to ride on the breeze

Roll, with its ambient fluctuation,

Journey on the back of its

Relentless, seasonal display,

Fall away,

Leave nothing

But a brief glimpse of heaven.

So much innocence lost

In the desire to remain evergreen.

When the world is stripped,

We are victims to the wild elements

Of a thoughtless nature,

And deserve more than to be exposed

With little protection.

And yet, as this bold axis has evolved,

I confess to be confused

By my journey.

This fortunate stumble

From selfish heathen

Going his own way,

Escaping Eden

Living in purgatory

Lost in the rip

And twist of a reckless wind,

Finding solace in a hidden garden,

Still dressed

In its full bloom of innocence.

What did I do to find such joy.

How can this untended soul

Bear such delicious fruit.

I have found my fortune

In her sweet beauty,

The merest mention of her name.

How did I come to earn such trust,

When I fear my senseless blunders

Will always lead to

The death of so many promising blooms.

She dries them between the leaves

Of a journal that will follow

The flowering of our times.

I am an unwitting ogre

In the face of such fragility.

I wonder if she will turn to dust

Beneath even my gentle touch.

I am minded to recall

The way of the fall,

How even the wildest winds

Blow themselves out.

And my mind turns to other things,

The tending of my growing,

The mending of my ways

And to the welcome return

Of better days.